SamsLand wrote:Can you write her a letter? Now while you are upset?
Okay
I'm scared. I'm scared you may be thinking mean things about me. I'm scared you are tired of me and don't want to work with me. I have long fantasies of you telling me that you don't want to work with me anymore because I am so rude and because every time I go to therapy I sit there and make rude faces and act like I'm mad at you or frustrated with you.
And honestly that's how I feel when I'm in there but not after I leave. I stayed in the waiting room as long as I could to cry, but someone walked in and I didn't want to cry in front of them or for you to know I was still there when you opened the door. But I went outside and lay on the grass for an hour and a half crying on and off. And I've been crying on and off all day. I don't like being so rude. I'm not rude in real life. I promise.
I wish you could see how nice I am at work. I love people there. I'm not mean there. And they like me too. And I'm not mean to anyone but you. But it's an accident. I don't know why I change. It's like your office has a curse on me. When I'm with Brian(fake name), I cry a whole lot. I'm not like that in normal life either. And when I am with my roommates, I am just polite. But the nice me is the one at work, or sometimes with Brian, and sometimes by myself.
I wish you would stop pretending to be nice and show who you really are underneath. That you can get angry. That you are angry with me. That you dread it when I come to a session. You are just your therapist self when you go to work. But you are different in the rest of your life. I don't want to see the fake you anymore. I want you to get mad at me.
I said something rude today, and I said I was sorry. And I was angry when you didn't say anything back. You should have said 'that's okay', or 'why are you acting so rude, what's wrong with you, why are you so hateful?' But when you don't say anything I get mad. Because it's like you're saying that I wasn't being rude at all. Well, I was. No doubt about it. And you should get mad at me as punishment.
But all this makes me feel like I am spinning my wheels in therapy. Like I shouldn't be going at all. I waste my time in therapy. I could put it to so much better use if I could just change into the nicer me when I go. But I don't know how.
I want to talk about stuff that makes me sad. But it's so petty. And I know you hear worse things. You hear of all kinds of horror, why listen to some ungrateful jerk who doesn't know the first thing about fear, about pain? Who is scared to take rides with people or hang out with anyone other than Brian? I don't even try. Well, I guess I try a little. But not hard enough, and not consistently enough to actually make a real difference.
And my past. Who cares if I was homeless during 3 different phases of my development? Who cares if that's why I had to give up my kitty? Who cares if I had no long term relationships cuz I moved 26 times? Who cares if I was estranged from my Dad when I was 10? Who cares if I was bullied in 8th grade and almost expelled? Who cares that my mom uses me for her own gain? I know she still loves me. She's done a lot for me. Sacrificed a lot for me. She knew we were in $#%^, but she tried to make it fun. And she loves me a lot. She's just been through a lot herself.
Wouldn't you rather work with someone else, someone better?
Okay, I think I'm done.